Fidelitas
by A Lily By Any Other Name
Summary: Hannah Frost had never been familiar with Norse mythology, nor was she so easy to believe in destiny or reincarnation. No, she was a practical, rational, determined college student who shouldn't- by any motive- have been the one to render the god of chaos speechless by confronting him at Stuttgart. Loki/OC.
1. Prologue

**A/N: So I'm trash and unearthed a fic I started working on back in 2013 from ancient files in my computer. I decided it wasn't nearly as shitty as I expected it to be, and have hence picked it back up again. Enjoy. xx.**

 **Fidelitas  
** **A Lily By Any Other Name**

* * *

 ** _Fidelity:_**

 ** _1._**

 _strict observance of promises, duties, etc.: a servant's fidelity._

 ** _2._**

 _loyalty: fidelity to one's country._

 ** _3._**

 _conjugal faithfulness._

* * *

She was cold.

Colder than she'd ever been in life.

A pale, ghostly pallor had begun to creep into her face, overtaking the previous healthy glow. Her eyes, once a brilliant blue and full of life had begun to dull, now forever empty. Ruby red lips slightly parted, blonde waves falling to the ground. Death's cruel arms were cradling her rather than his own.

Her.

His Sigyn.

"Sigyn…"

A choked sob escaped his lips, his vision going blurry with tears. He knelt down, letting grief and shock crash down on him as he pulled her into his lap. He let his fingers trail over her face, past her unseeing eyes, tangling in her hair.

"No."

He closed his eyes. Maybe if he shut them tight enough, wish this all away, he wouldn't be clutching Sigyn's lifeless body to his own. This could very well be a nightmare that he would wake up from soon, a distant memory he could shove into a secluded corner of his mind. He wasn't too late; Sigyn was still alive and breathing right next to him—

"Loki." A stern yet gentle voice called out.

He slowly opened his eyes, feeling more tears fall as he did so. Standing above him was the Allfather, his expression grim as he looked down at his youngest son and his now deceased daughter-in-law.

"She will be greeted with a warrior's welcome in Valhalla."

Loki blinked and tightened his grip on Sigyn. Her body had gone completely rigid. If it was up to him, she wouldn't be on her way to Valhalla. She would be with him on Asgard. But part of him knew no amount of magic, no spell; no ability would be able to bring her back. He'd be stupid to even try. Gently, he closed her eyelids with his finger. She looked peaceful, as if she was sleeping.

 _Sleep is just a cousin of death,_ he thought bitterly, choking back another sob as he put her down.

Odin offered Loki his help as he shakily stood, but the Trickster refused. He heard his brother bellow something in the distance, loud enough for all the Nine Realms to hear, but it sounded distorted. The only things Loki was certain he was hearing was the rush of his own blood through his veins and a constant ringing in his ears. Somehow, it was as if the world had lost its vibrancy and color. It was as if his entire world had abruptly stopped still, suspended like a pendulum out of motion.

With a final glance at his wife, Loki turned on his heel, feeling hollow. But he bit his lip and refused to let himself cry more than he already had. He'd mourn in private with no one watching him. With no one saying how Sigyn would have been better off marrying Asgard's golden prince instead of its dark one. He could already hear the whispers of the court; hear the gossip of people who had nothing better to do. They had never understood.

 _No amount of magic can bring her back._

* * *

The infant cradled in the woman's arms wasn't supposed to be alive.

She wasn't even supposed to make it past six months inside the womb. The doctors had diagnosed her with a condition that would make her life very difficult if she had not been miscarried or aborted.

A miracle, the nurses had whispered, when they first heard the strong cry of the newborn.

A mistake in the diagnostics, the doctors had said as they ran tests on the baby girl.

A sign from God, her Christian parents had concluded as the little girl opened her bright blue eyes.

Hannah Frost was not supposed to be alive, but she was. Some would attribute it to destiny, religion or science. Maybe the universe had decided to be kind to her and give her a chance at life.

Even if she had already lived another.

* * *

 **A/N: I mean nothing excuses the fact that I'm literally writing a Loki/OC fic. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. God, I am such trash.**


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: So, yeah, I'm actually going to be incorporating Norse mythology into this. Or at least trying to. Sorry in advance.**

* * *

 **Fidelitas  
A Lily By Any Other Name**

* * *

 _Twenty three years later…_

Intervening in some inter-galactic terrorist attack was _not_ how Hannah planned to begin her first year studying abroad.

She had just been walking the streets of downtown Stuttgart, sightseeing before her studies, when a _freaking car_ almost barreled into her before flipping over on the road. Having had ducked in time to remain unscathed, she watched as a large crowd assembled in front of the auction house down the street. Furrowing her brows, she decided to investigate, because _how could she not after almost getting crushed beneath a car._ Picking herself off the ground, she cautiously walked toward the crowd. With a gasp, she however realized that what she thought was a crowd wasn't really a crowd; it was a large group of people that seemed to be held hostage in the plaza, no one daring to move. At the front of the mob, on the steps leading up to the building, stood a man clothed in some sort of weird golden armor complete with a cape and a helmet. He was waving some sort of staff around, pacing back and forth.

From the way he stood, he seemed to be in the middle of a monologue that Hannah was too far away to hear. Maybe this was some sort of weird German tradition that she wasn't aware of. Or maybe he was a coplayer or something, since his attire looked like something straight out of a J.R.R Tolkien book. Hannah dared to edge closer, trying to listen to what he was saying. Part of her wanted to turn back and alert the police or something (seriously, why was there no SWAT team here yet?) but another slightly more instinctive part of her knew that this was no cosplayer and that these people were in danger.

" _KNEEL!"_

Hannah flinched as the man brought his staff down on the ground with a loud, metallic clang. Suddenly, a force field seemed to form around the people, who all dropped to their knees. Hannah blinked and hid behind a phone booth. Had she really just seen bars of rippling energy materialize out of thin air? And more importantly, had the man with the staff conjured it? She inched even closer, weaving her way around a car blocking the exit to another street.

"Is not this simpler?" The man asked, a smile playing on his lips as he walked through the crowd. His voice seemed to bounce off the nearby buildings. "Is this not your natural state? It's the unspoken truth of humanity that you _crave_ subjugation."

 _Subjugation? Humanity?_

"The bright allure for freedom diminishes your life's joy in a mad scramble for power, for identity…"

 _A scramble for power and identity? Okay…_

"You were _made_ to be ruled. In the end, you will _always_ kneel."

It seemed as if the crowd was holding its breath, everyone too scared to breathe. Like a lion amongst sheep, the man moved with an easy, predatory grace, basking in his own power, knowing crowds would part for him not out of respect but out of intimidation.

 _Like a lion amongst sheep._

Yet his voice, smooth as velvet and dark as obsidian, had Hannah captivated.

 _He's a silvertongue._

Out of the corner of her eye, Hannah saw an old man stand. He had to be at least eighty, from how shakily he stood, but he kept his head held high.

"Not to men like you."

His words were directed at the man with the staff as he held his gaze. The rest of the crowd seemed awestruck. His words held the spite of decades; the anguish, the humiliation. His tone said _never again._

However, the other man seemed unfazed by this outburst.

"There are no men like me—" He started, his tone tinged with amusement.

"There will _always_ be men like you."

Silence settled once again over the crowd. Hannah could hear her own pulse racing.

"Look to your elder, people," The man with the staff smirked sardonically and raised the staff once again, this time directing it at his challenger. The tip was glowing blue. The old man stood his ground, his head held high with pride. "Let him be an example—"

" _STOP!"_

Hannah ran in front of him, ducking at the last second before a blast of blue energy hit her. She stayed down, her heart racing at a million miles per second, the adrenaline rush making her throat go dry. Her head was spinning and her stomach churned as she clutched the ground, trying not to fall over. All around her, she could hear people murmur.

" _Silence."_ It was more of a deadly order than a shout.

"Stand, girl."

Hannah could see the golden butt of the staff, a sweeping green cape skimming the floor, expensive-looking leather boots. She took a shaky breath. From his tone of voice, she knew there was no ignoring him. She stood, trying to muster all her courage as she looked up to him. Up close, she could see his sharp features framed by the golden helmet. High cheekbones, messy raven hair peeking out from underneath the gold of the headpiece, piercing green eyes that held secrets and mischief, lips that were usually smirking pressed into a thin line…

 _I feel like I've seen him before._

"No. It can't be..."

His voice jarred her back to reality. It sounded weak, broken. His green eyes were searching her, looking her all over. He looked like a deer caught in headlights, his staff clattering to the floor. Hannah stepped forward almost involuntarily as she held his gaze. That energy, that magnetism, it was coming from _him._ He radiated energy, a glow. ..

 _Almost like magic._

She hadn't realized she had reached out to him and laid her hand on his arm. His eyes suddenly grew soft and the tongue she somehow knew to be razor sharp was quiet, speechless. His hand gently caressed her cheek, cold against her skin.

"Sigyn—"

 _Loki._

"Loki, drop the weapon and stand down."

As if snapping out of a trance his— _Loki?—_ eyes narrowed and flashed a cold blue as he spun around. His staff flew back to his outstretched hand. Hannah scrambled away from him, confused by what had just happen. How did she know his name? _Was_ that his name? Why did he call her Sigyn? Hannah's mind reeled, questions flying around.

 _Who is he?_

In the sky, some sort of aircraft hovered above them, the warning seeming to come from there. Hannah turned on her heel and ran like everyone else without sparing a glance at the scene behind her, her heart pounding against her ribcage and her lungs burning. But as she ran back to her flat, she could still feel sharp green eyes glued to her, staring at her with a soft brokenness. The spot where he'd cupped her face still felt cool. That famed silver tongue had tied itself into knots at the sight of her. That pull, that glow, that energy…

 _Magic._

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 **A/N: plz review and favorite if you like it! Please! Reviews are amazing!**


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who followed and favorited. Y'all are the true MVPs. But please don't forget to review. Please.**

* * *

 **Fidelitas  
A Lily By Any Other Name**

* * *

 **Chapter Two**

Surrender was not part of the plan.

In his own defense, Loki had not expected to be ambushed by the Man Out of Time and his cohorts. The super soldier was easy to overpower but his rusty friend just _had_ to join in on the carnage—not that there was any on their part, of course. His surrender was simply a wayward stepping stone; a change of course. In all their pride, these mortals were easy to manipulate. At the moment, he was being escorted to S.H.I.E.L.D in a jet, periodically receiving dirty looks from the good captain.

"I don't like it." he heard Captain Rogers mutter to Stark.

"What, Rock of Ages giving up so quickly?" the other man answered.

Loki blinked.

"I don't remember it being that easy," the soldier added with another glare in his direction. "This guy packs a wallop."

Loki suppressed a small smile. They were intimidated—or at least knew he was a threat. He immediately took favor to Captain America—at least he would admit something the others wouldn't out loud, even if he thought they were out of earshot. Loki tuned out their conversation as Stark began babbling about something called Pilates and called his teammate a 'capsicle'.

 _Does this man ever shut up?_

Instead, Loki let his mind wander to the girl that took stood in the way of the old man in Stuttgart. At first, he had thought it was just a stupid mortal girl, trying to play hero. But as soon as she got up to face him; he couldn't help but stare at her in shock, all intentions of harming anyone left behind. She looked just like Sigyn; from the color of her eyes, to her blonde waves, to her slender curves underneath her Midgardian attire. She had laid her hand gently on his arm like Sigyn had done, didn't shy away from him…

If he closed his eyes, he could imagine her standing in Asgardian dress, looking regal and beautiful, smiling softly at him while tending to her gardens… Just the thought made his heart ache.

But this girl had run away .

Her eyes widened like a doe's and she turned heel and ran, not even looking back. She couldn't possibly be his Sigyn. Sigyn was dead. She wouldn't have run away, no matter what he did. He would be insulting her memory by comparing her to a mortal girl. He shoved the thought out of his mind, trying to forget the haunting blue eyes he thought he would never see again.

 _She is not Sigyn._

 _She can't possibly be-_

Loki stiffened as lightning crackled outside, flashing a bright white outside the windows of the jet. Lightning is a bad sign that could only mean one thing-

"Where's this coming from?" The redheaded pilot muttered, pressing some buttons on the dashboard of the machine. The Captain caught Loki's response to the flash, and gave him a stern look.

"What's the matter, you scared of a little lightning?"

"I'm not overly fond of what follows." He said, looking up.

The jet shook as if something heavy had landed on its roof. Stark put his helmet back on while Rogers groped around for his shield. Loki gripped the straps of his restraining seatbelt, bracing himself. The door of the jet opened as Stark pushed a button and in marched Loki's dear not-brother, Mjolnir in hand. Thor flung his hammer at Stark, throwing him into Rogers in a tangle of limbs. He then proceeded to break Loki out of his seatbelt and grabbed him by the throat. Loki didn't even have time to try to break out of his grip as Thor swung Mjolnir, propelling them both out of the jet.

"Where is the Tesseract?" Thor boomed, towering over Loki who was lying on his back after skidding on the rocky surface of the bluff they had landed on.

"Oh, I've missed you too," Loki chuckled, groaning in pain at the force of the impact.

"Do I look to be in a gaming mood?"

 _Well, this looks to be the one thing you have taken seriously in a few centuries._

"Oh, you should thank me," Loki responded, propping himself up. "With the Bifrost gone, how much dark energy did the Allfather have to muster to conjure you here, your precious Earth?"

Thor threw his hammer down, clearly not pleased by the Trickster's jab and grabbed him roughly by the neck again, forcing him to stand.

"I thought you dead," he growled. Loki stared at him in silence for a few seconds before responding.

"Did you mourn?"

 _Did you throw a feast in my honor at which you got incredibly drunk at?_

"We all did," the golden prince responded, his eyes softening a bit. "Our father—"

" _Your_ father," Loki corrected, his tone low. Thunder rumbled above them. "He did tell you my true parentage, did he not?"

 _Did he tell you that I am the monster that parents tell their children about?_

Thor let go of Loki's shoulders and watched as his raven-haired brother turned around and began to pace.

"We were raised together," he said, his voice wavering. " We played together, we _fought_ together. Do you remember none of that? "

 _I remember you throwing me off a bridge._

"I remember a shadow," Loki paused, his voice laced with spite as he turned to face the other man. "Living in the shade of your greatness. I remember you tossing me into an abyss, I who was and _should_ be king."

 _I still am a king._

"So you take the world I love as recompense for your imagined slights?" Thor continued. "No, the Earth is under my protection, Loki—"

"And you're doing a _marvelous_ job with that, " Loki laughed mirthlessly. "The humans slaughter each other in masses while you idly fret. I mean to _rule_ them. And why should I not—"

"So you think yourself above them?"

Loki paused at Thor's question. Humans slaved away their short lives in a scramble for unattainable power and identity. Their lives were far too short and too petty. Even Midgard's finest were no match for him, a god. The realm had nothing to offer than the nature of humanity that was easy to manipulate and bend to a greater being's will.

"Well, yes."

Thor shook his head, taking a step forward. "Then you miss the truth of ruling, brother. The throne would suit you ill—"

Loki scoffed and pushed past Thor to stand at the edge of the bluff, looking down at a forest of pine trees.

"I've seen worlds you've never known about," he said, raising his voice. "I have grown, _Odinson,_ in my exile. I have seen the true power of the Tesseract, and when I wield—"

"Who showed you this power?" Thor asked, following his brother. "Who controls the would-be king?"

" _I am a king!"_ Loki shouted, his voice ringing over the small valley. Ravens cawed as they flew out of the trees, startled by the sudden outburst.

"Not here!" Thor shouted back, once again gripping Loki's shoulders and shaking him. "You give up the Tesseract; you give up this poisonous dream!" He paused, his hand on the back of Loki's neck. "You come home." He added, his voice softer, more sincere.

 _I recalled being banished from my so-called home._

Loki shrugged, looking up at his elder brother.

"I don't have it."

Thor growled as Mjolnir flew back to his hand. Loki didn't even flinch as he raised it above his head in a threatening stance.

"You need the cube to bring me home, but I've sent it off, I know not where."

Thor took a step forward, pointing the hammer at Loki's chest. "Listen well, brother—"

In a flash of bright light, Thor was hit by a flying something and knocked off the bluff, leaving Loki staring in amusement at the spot where he had stood a few seconds ago.

"I'm listening."

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 **A/N: Please review. Even if you already favorited/followed. I see u. I see u not reviewing.**


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N: review plz.**

* * *

 **Fidelitas  
A Lily By Any Other Name**

* * *

 **Chapter Three**

The hours following the incident at the square were an absolute blur. All Hannah could remember was the deafening roar of a helicopter, Iron Man, and a myriad of questions from the local police. Her answers to most of them involved the words _I don't know._ It was true—she _didn't_ know the man with the staff. She _didn't_ know Iron Man. She _didn't_ know how she was alive after that blast of blue energy knocked her flat on her ass. All she really knew was that she was tired and confused.

Sleep should have come easily that night, but she couldn't close her eyes without seeing green and gold. For some reason, she couldn't shake away the feeling of _déjà vu_ that washed over her when she looked at the man with that staff. She'd _seen_ him before somewhere. Maybe he went to her university in the states, or maybe he went to high school with her, or maybe he was one of those people you just _knew_. But no one expects a kid from their high school to become a walking exhibit of the renaissance fair in just six short years. Or to go on a tirade about subjugation. Or to threaten people with a glowing staff that looked like a prop from Fellowship of the Ring. No. Things like that just… Didn't happen.

 _Loki._

Why did she have an eerie feeling that was his name? And why had he called her Sig-in, or something like that? Why had her brain short circuited when he touched her face? The same questions shed developed during the incident swirled in her mind as she tossed and turned in her bed.

Hopefully she'd have answers to them by morning.

* * *

The world was gray when she woke. Rain pattered softly against her windowpane, and the ground outside looked saturated with water. Hannah rolled out of bed with a massive headache at the sound of her alarm. She couldn't miss class today because the world stopped for nothing—not even terrorist attacks involving achingly familiar strangers. Her head throbbed, an annoying pain knocking between her temples, even as she downed a handful of Advil from her medicine cabinet. She just felt over all groggy; every single muscle in her body protested against movement, and her vision was peppered with spots.

 _It's all probably a side effect of that blue blast,_ she thought wryly to herself, _maybe if it gets worse I can cut class._

But it didn't. The Advil took its toll on her, alleviating her headache and numbing the soreness in her body. She shouldered her backpack carrying her textbooks, and mentally prepared herself to be lauded as a local hero for her heroism last night. It would be nice and all—getting praised like that—but she'd only been acting on instinct.

 _And there's something about that man with the staff…_

She shook the thought out of her head like a dog shaking water from its coat as she exited the front door of her apartment. With her keys in her hand, she turned to lock it, but before she could insert the key in the lock, a sleek black car pulled up in front of the building. Hannah watched, guarded, as a man in a dapper suit climbed out. She groaned. More authorities. Didn't they interrogate her enough last night? Something in the back of her mind, however, told her that the man in the suit wasn't just any detective. He exuded an air of mystery that reminded her of secret agents on TV shows. She froze as he neared her.

"Are you Hannah Frost?" He asked. Hannah caught her intimidated reflection in the lenses of his dark sunglasses.

"Yes." She nodded weakly. "Who are you?"

"Phil Coulson." He said, taking off his sunglasses. His eyes were a pleasant shade of blue and seemed warm. He extended his hand to her in greeting. "Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D."

* * *

 _Well, forget going to class._

Not even an hour later, Hannah found herself sitting with the director of S.H.I.E.L.D inside a lavish private jet. She fidgeted uncomfortably in her seat as Nick Fury stared her down with his one-eyed glare.

"I didn't do anything." She muttered, shaking her head. "Let's just clear that up. I did _not_ cause what happened in Stuttgart. I'm not in cahoots with the man with the staff, I don't know why Iron Man showed up, and I sure as hell don't know what you people want with me."

"We know you're innocent, Miss Frost." Fury nodded. "You're more than innocent. You saved a person's life."

"Then why am I here?" Hannah pressed, but Fury's intense gaze made her shrink back in her seat. "Your agent didn't explain anything to me on the way to the airbase other than who you people are. You're like… Like the secret service of the unusual, right?"

"More or less." Fury shrugged, leaning back in his seat.

"Then I don't understand why I'm here." Hannah said. "I'm not an alien or something. And I _really_ don't want to be involved with any, if you're here to offer me a job or whatever. Thanks but no thanks."

The director simply looked amused. Hannah clenched her jaw tightly.

"Miss Frost," He started, getting up out of his seat. "Are you familiar with the Norse gods?"

"What, like Thor?" She questioned. "The gods the Vikings worshipped? Not really. Why?"

"Because the man with the staff," He explained, pacing around the cabin, effectively making Hannah even more uncomfortable. "Is one of them. That jackass with the stupid-looking cape is Loki, the Norse god of chaos."

He said it with so much certainty that Hannah had a hard time doubting him. Perhaps it was the trench coat and eye patch that made Nick Fury so authoritative, but she would have believed his explanation nonetheless. The whole thing _did_ seem far-fetched- a _god,_ a _Norse god, a_ living myth—but it all seemed to fit together like missing pieces of a puzzle. A… _God._ That would explain the chill she felt near him, the ethereal glow he seemed to cast. It just… Made sense.

 _Magic. He can do magic._

But the rational part of her mind prevented her from fully buying into it.

"You've _got_ to be kidding me," She started, rolling her eyes. "You mean to tell me that _gods_ are running around the planet right now? That _Norse gods—gods!—_ aren't just myths? Look, I know S.H.I.E.L.D is all about unearthing the unusual, but that seems ridiculous even for this kind of organization. I'd sooner believe you could dig somebody out alive from an iceberg."

"Oh, but we did." Fury nodded, still looking amused at her incredulousness. "Ever heard of Captain America?"

"What?" Hannah blinked. "Captain America? Don't tell me you have files on every mythical being and urban legend in existence."

"You'll get to meet him soon, if that would help you believe what you see." The director said slyly. He took a seat in front of her again. "The point I'm trying to make here, Miss Frost, is that you're special. That's why you're here."

Hannah narrowed her eyes. "Special? I told you, I didn't have _anything_ to do with it—"

" _We know."_ Nick Fury cut her off with a fierce one-eyed glare. Hannah glued her mouth shut, but still regarded him with suspicion. "You'd be sitting in a S.H.I.E.L.D holding facility right now if you did. But you didn't. We know you didn't have a damn thing to do with Stuttgart. We just want to figure out how a seemingly normal girl was able to survive a blast of cosmic energy."

 _Oh._

She blinked.

"Let me guess," Fury said sarcastically, still fixing her with that one-eyed stare. "You don't know. The files told us the same thing. _That's_ why you're here, Miss Frost. Had you failed to shield that old man from the blast, he would have been a pile of ashes. There's something about you that S.H.I.E.L.D has to get to the bottom of."

Hannah suddenly felt like a specimen on a slide. Nick Fury was the microscope, analyzing her from every angle and direction. She crossed her arms over her chest.

"And," Fury continued. "There's also the fact that Loki paused his little scheme at the sight of you. Now that's damn suspicious, surviving a cosmic blast _and_ capturing the attention of the god of chaos."

"I don't know him," She repeated. "I really don't. Even if what you say is true, I think I would know if I was familiar with a god."

 _But I don't._

"We trust you don't." The director assured her. "Whatever it is, there's something special about you, Miss Frost. And while normally S.H.I.E.L.D would be monitoring your every move, we don't have the time to stake such a project right now. As soon as we touch down on the helicarrier, you'll be escorted to meet the team of people you'll be working with."

"Working with on _what?"_ She asked. "For an agency based on questions, you people do a really bad job at answering _my_ questions. I'm so confused. What is it that's so urgent—"

"Loki's planning to take over the world." Fury said bluntly. "That's pretty much what it boils down to. I'll have Coulson brief you on the technicalities later, but you've got places to be. We're coming up on the helicarrier."

 _What the hell am I getting myself into?_

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 **A/N: y'all already know what I'm gonna say xx.**


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N: This is shorter than the rest of the chapters, but enjoy! Also thanks to the reviewers! Plz keep it up!**

* * *

 **Fidelitas  
** **A Lily By Any Other Name**

* * *

 **Chapter Four**

 _Flashback_

"The princess of Vanaheim must either be very beautiful or very hideous if we've yet to see her."

Loki snickered lightly at his brother's speculation, but it had been the question on both their minds since their mother announced the visit of Vanaheim's nobles to Asgard. He supposed that their mother, the queen of Asgard, wanted her sons, the princes of Asgard, to secure prospective marriages with women of their castes now that they had come of age. And what better prospect than a princess from another realm? Loki, of course, knew that this visit was more for Thor's benefit rather than his own considering his brother would be the one to inherit the throne.

 _...Eventually._

"She _is_ one of Freya's charges." Loki chided quietly, careful not to let his mother overhear him. "You know Freya doesn't like it when her underlings opaque her."

"So you think she will be unappealing?" Thor asked (a little too loudly for Loki's liking), but Loki gave an imperceptible shake of his head.

"No, but _Freya_ -"

" _Boys_ ," Their mother, Frigga, hissed from her throne. She didn't turn to look at them, but her tone said enough. " _Quiet._ "

As if on cue, the grand doors to Asgard's throne room opened, gliding across the spotless floors like eagles in the sky. A herald emerged from between. He seemed engulfed in the immensity of the hall even with the entire court surrounding him.

"Presenting!" The herald cried out, his voice bouncing off the golden walls. "Her majesty, Queen Freya of Vanaheim, and Her Highness, Princess Sigyn of Vanaheim!"

Heels clicked on the marble floors as two women walked into the throne room. Well, _walked_ wasn't really an accurate description—the two seemed to float gracefully over the ground with their shoulders set back and their heads held high. The woman leading the duo was tall, blonde, and had achingly beautiful features. Everything about her, in fact, radiated beauty, but that was to be expected from Freya, the goddess of love. Behind Freya was another blonde, but she was shorter. Loki couldn't quite see her, but knew she was their guest of honor: Sigyn of Vanaheim.

The court curtsied as the women passed by them on their way to the throne. Once there, at the foot of the great golden seat, they knelt.

It was then that he could truly see her. Her hair fell to her back in gold waves that reminded him of the exterior of the palace. The brassy color of it contrasted against her white cloak. A thin diadem held her hair back from her slender, porcelain face. When she looked up towards the throne, he noticed her eyes were a brilliant blue that rivaled a cloudless sky.

"Welcome, daughters of Vanaheim—"Odin began, but Loki knew both he and his brother had tuned him out. Thor nudged him subtly, but had he not been expecting it, Loki would have been sent sprawling across the throne room.  
 _That brute._

The corners of the princess' lips turned upwards ever-so-slightly as if she had noticed that exchange. They were the color of the rose buds that turned into blooms every spring. Loki felt his face burn when he noticed how amused she looked. His brother smirked slightly, and raised an eyebrow.

 _That brute._

* * *

It was absolutely humiliating to be escorted into captivity, but Loki somehow managed to keep his act up even as armed guards marched him to his cell. The flying contraption he'd submitted himself to board was massive; it was practically a labyrinth of steel and glass. It truly _was_ a spectacle to behold, but even humanity's best was unrivaled to his power.

He couldn't help his wandering eyes as he was practically shoved and prodded down a hall. Windows and doors flanked each side. Some were open, but most of them were closed. He mustered his most unnerving grin as they passed by one of the laboratories; a man with salt-and-pepper hair and glasses stood at a reactor, observing the brightly glowing specimen attached to the end of it. As soon as the man saw him pass by his window, his expression fell and he reached up to take his glasses off as if to make sure his eyes weren't kidding him.

It felt strange being watched so closely by mindless mortals. He seemed to command their attention as he passed; they all quit their tidings to watch him, mouths agape, as he was marched past. It was rather gratifying, really, but their eyes meant nothing to him. The azure blaze of that mortal girl's eyes still consumed his mind like a wildfire. They were _so_ like his Sigyn's—the same size, same shape, same shade of blue—but he knew they couldn't be. A mortal woman, a simple Midgardian wench, couldn't compare to a goddess.

 _She was not scared of me…_

The fear that contorted the faces of the crowd at Stuttgart had not reflected on hers. She hadn't run away, or cried, or screamed, or show any implication of fear once their eyes met. She just looked… Confused.

But as she reached out to touch him, she looked so much like Sigyn—so calm, so faithful—that he could hardly bring himself to conjure the image in his mind.

* * *

 **A/N: Plz plz plz plz plz plz plz plz plz review xx.**


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N: I know it's been a literal year since I've updated, probably, but I saw Civil War like twice and was reminded of how much I love Marvel.**

* * *

The helicarrier was _huge._ Hannah felt dwarfed as she was ushered inside the main control room. Rows upon rows of high-tech computers faced the center, where the main panel sat. A tall woman stood there, operating it. Her dark hair was tied back in a no-nonsense bun that suited her black S.H.I.E.L.D uniform. Hannah stood at a conference table overlooking it all. Computers whirled, people talked, and fingers tapped against keys, but the cacophony had a panicked ring to it, as if every member of the crew were looking for something.

Which they were.

And Hannah, according to Nick Fury, was supposed to be helping.

Loki- "that jackass in the stupid-looking cape"- had apparently stolen an artifact called the Tesseract- "this glowing blue thing"- to take over the world. That was more or less the gist of it without getting into excruciating detail about Loki's supposed inferiority complex. Hannah still couldn't wrap her mind around the situation, yet she was still aboard a SHIELD aircraft, had just finished speaking with Nick freaking Fury, and was about to meet a bunch of superheroes. She might as well go with it. Also, the prospect of world domination by a "crazy Norse bastard" scared her quite a bit. So as long as she could help, she'd stay even if she doubted she'd be much use to a group of dysfunctional superheroes.

Those same dysfunctional superheroes hadn't seemed to have gotten the message that they were supposed to meet her. The frantic whirring and beeping of the sea of computers and routers made her nervous. She felt so intrusive in a place where she was supposedly needed, and that in itself was an awful sensation; she'd never stuck out anywhere, never felt the urge to fit in. She was a normal girl from the middle class suburbs of Milwaukee. She had normal parents, a normal house, a normal life. She was normal looking- there was nothing special about blonde hair and blue eyes- and a normal enough intellect to make it to college. This was no place for normal people. She'd been convinced of that as soon as she set foot on the carrier.

 _But apparently I'm not normal. Otherwise, the Norse god of chaos wouldn't have stopped for me. He should have killed me._

Three men emerged from the hallways that lead into the control room. Judging from the way two of them were dressed, Hannah presumed these were Earth's most dysfunctional superheroes; one was dressed in chain mail armor and a red cap, and the other one wore star-spangled spandex. The last man wore khakis and a purple button-down. Still, Hannah now felt even more out of place in jeans and hoodie.

She smiled, but it probably looked more like a grimace at this point. The one in spandex returned the gesture. He had a nice smile.

"I'm Hannah Frost." She said to introduce herself to the three as they neared the table. "I'm, uh, working with you. I'm not sure if Director Fury told you."

Blue Spandex was clearly the most outgoing in the group. Purple Button-Down looked distracted, and Red Cape stared at her with narrowed eyes. She shifted her weight uncomfortably and stuck out her hand in greeting. People still did that, right?

Spandex took it. His grip was warm and strong. It made her feel comfortable.

"Steve Rogers, Miss Frost." He said, letting go of her hand. "Pleased to meet you."

Hannah took a second to actually take him in. He was tall and broad-shouldered. The spandex really accentuated that. His blonde hair was the color of wheat and neatly, precisely, combed in a way that reminded her of a military cut. He was classically handsome; if it were possible for a human being to personify old-school Hollywood charm and gallantry, it would be him. The red and white stood out on his blue uniform like... Like the stripes on the American flag.

 _Oh. Wow._

"Are you... Are you Captain America?" She blurted out.

He smiled, glancing down as if embarrassed. "The costume gave it away, didn't it?"

"Uh, yeah." She laughed nervously. "I just, uh, didn't think you were... Y'know, real."

His brows furrowed as if he didn't know how to respond to that. She didn't blame him.

"It's been a long day," She sighed. "Sorry."

"It's alright." He reassured her, his smile returning, as he reached out for one of the chairs in front of him. He pulled it out and gestured to it. "You should take a seat."

"Um, thanks." She blushed, allowing him to help her in. He reminded her of decades past, but it was actually kind of charming. He took a seat next to her.

Steve- _can I call him that?-_ introduced her to the other two men. Purple Button-Down turned out to be Dr. Bruce Banner, a chemist, and Red Cape was actually Thor, Norse god of thunder. Hannah knew that if she hadn't already just met Captain America she would've probably choked on air because _Thor,_ but, as she said, it'd been a long day. Thor sat across from her and Captain Rogers- _that sounds more appropriate-_ with his hands clenched into tight fists on the table. His gaze was as intense as the storms he conjured. Hannah wished it wasn't directed at her, but she was sitting directly in his line of vision. Something, though, made her think he was purposely staring at her, as if placing her under the intensity of his stormy eyes would get her to confess a secret. Too bad she didn't have any.

They sat in silence for a good five minutes. The beeping of the computers and the roar of the air outside the carrier reminded her of screams. She looked up for a second only to meet Thor's eyes. Immediately, she threw her own gaze back to the ground.

Captain Rogers spoke up. "So, Miss Frost, pardon my manners, but what exactly is your job here?"

Hannah blinked. "Fury said I'm supposed to help you guys with Loki."

The Captain frowned. "Are you... Powered?"

"No, no." She nearly snorted. "I literally have no idea why I'm here, or why Fury thinks I can do anything. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. At Stuttgart."

"You were at Stuttgart?" He asked, surprised.

"Yes." She nodded. "I was in the crowd at the square. When Loki threatened the old man with his staff, I... I pushed him out of the way."

"You survived a blast of cosmic energy." Dr. Banner deadpanned from across the table. It was the first time he'd spoken. Thor, however, was still silent. "That doesn't sound right. That should have killed you."

Hannah blushed. "I... I know."

"And what happened after that?" Captain Rogers continued. "After you stood up for the old man?"

"He, Loki, just kind of stared at me." She said. "It was weird. He just stopped, stared, and... Yeah. Then you guys showed up, and I made a run for it. SHIELD showed up on my door the next day."

There was no way in hell she was telling them about that spark, about that magic. They didn't to know that when he reached out to touch her she didn't flinch, or that she saw herself reflected in the jade of his eyes. It was like magic, she hadn't a doubt about it, but not everyone believed in magic. Hannah herself wasn't so sure things like this could happen, but she was sitting at a table with two living legends, so perhaps reality did allow itself to bend at times. But why her? Why of all people would someone so evil, someone who was planning to subjugate humanity, focus on _her?_ Maybe that was why she refused to tell anyone about it—she was too scared to face that there truly was something extraordinary about it, about her.

"You should be dead."

Thor had spoken. His voice emulated the rumbling thunder he was famed for. Suddenly, it was as if Hannah could taste moisture in the air and hear howling winds ripping through the air.

So I've been told, she wanted to say, but she simply bit her lower lip. "I… I don't know how I'm not."

 _I really, really don't and I don't think I want to._

* * *

 **A/N: Here's to hoping I don't go MIA for another eight months lmao. Please leave your thoughts!**


	7. Chapter 6

**A/N: Awh, look at me actually updating things. Now that AP exams are over, I can finally relax and try to write. Thanks for all the support!**

* * *

 **Chapter Six**

Captivity was dreadfully boring, too.

Loki supposed the glass holding cell would've been more impressive if he couldn't magic his way out of it. Of course, he wasn't going to let the stupid humans know that was not beyond his capabilities. It would be fun to rile them up, to see them turn on each other. And that was his goal. As he told the detested man with the eye patch, the glorified cage they held him in was meant for a much stronger beast.

Through the glass, he watched the man with the eye patch leave. He reminded him of Odin, that man. Perhaps that was why he already hated him. Nonetheless, he found his confidence amusing. Ant, he'd said while gesturing to him, boot, he said when he turned towards the panel of buttons that controlled his glass prison. Alright.

He knew there was a surveillance camera pointed towards him. Turning in its direction, he looked up at it—gazing straight into the lens—and offered a winning smirk.

* * *

Despite all the interest Thor had shown in Sigyn, Loki was not surprised when his brother declared that she would not be his wife. Thor went through women like normal people went through clothes; there was always one—or sometimes even a couple—that caught his eye, but none could retain his attention for very long. Loki was often stuck comforting every heartbroken maiden his brother had turned down—reassuring them that it was not their fault his brother was a brute—but it seemed that Sigyn would be the exception to that rule.

"She was not even upset!" Thor exclaimed angrily after his sparring practice. "She only smiled and thanked me for being interested in her!"

Loki suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. "What a poor, ungrateful wench, not knowing the grand honor she had of being rejected by the mighty prince Thor."

"It is unacceptable." His brother muttered angrily as they walked through the halls of the palace. "And to think I thought her worthy."

Well, worthy she was, at least in regards to her physical beauty. She was already royalty, so her regal aspect could not be negated. Indeed, she would look fitting upon the Asgardian throne, if Loki thought so himself. But his brother clearly didn't.

"Why did you turn her down?" He asked Thor, keeping his voice casual. "What part of her was not to your liking?"

Thor paused in his tracks. His brow knit in thought. "I am not sure." Another pause. "You can have her."

Loki blinked. While it was not unusual for him to inherit Thor's unwanted play things, it had never been that way with women. "What?"

"You seem interested enough in her." Thor chuckled while Loki tried to keep up with his pace. He smirked at him. "Would you like her? She is more suited for you than me."

"What makes you assume that?" Loki asked, still trying to keep his voice light. "I have never spoken to her."

"She likes magic." Thor reasoned. "You like magic. She is sensible, quiet, intelligent. A bit odd. Like you. I think you are well-matched."

Loki shook his head. "Mother is urging _you_ to find a bride, she is not worried about me—"

They turned a corner only to find themselves face-to-face with Princess Sigyn and two of her ladies-in-waiting. The princess was wearing a shimmering, lavender dress, and her golden hair was woven back into a braid. She smiled, making eye contact with Loki and then Thor. Loki felt his face heat up, and looked towards the ground. Her ladies-in-waiting probably noticed his aversion, and giggled. Sigyn fixed them with a side glance, effectively shutting them up.

"Prince Thor, Prince Loki." She greeted, curtsying. Her ladies followed suit. Her voice was like chimes in a gentle breeze. "I apologize for having quite literally run into you."

"You have nothing to apologize for, princess." Thor said warmly. Loki knew that was the first time he'd probably spoken courteously to a girl he'd turned down. "It's actually quite opportune. Have you spoken yet with my brother?"

If they weren't being watched, Loki would've jinxed Thor right then and there. He glanced up towards Sigyn, who met his eyes. Her azure gaze held him there.

"I do not believe I have." She admitted, offering him another smile. He felt himself return it, but it probably looked more like a frown. "But your mother, Queen Frigga, tells me you are highly skilled with magic, my prince. Is that true?"

Thor nudged him in encouragement, but since the brute was quite actually a boulder, Loki almost fell over. He glared daggers at his brother, who only smirked, before directing his attention back to Sigyn. Her ladies were having a barely-contained fit.

"My mother, with all due respect, tends to exaggerate." He said, _still_ trying to hold on to that cool demeanor. "Everything I learned is from her. She is the true sorceress of Asgard."

"He is being humble." Thor insisted gleefully, clapping him painfully on the back. "Our mother is impressed by him."

Sigyn nodded in awe. "That is amazing."

"The princess is humble as well," Thor continued. Loki wanted to stab him. "Her skill has no parallel in Vanaheim. You two should exchange stories."

"You flatter me still, my prince." Sign laughed lightly. "And yes, that would be an honor."

 _An... Honor?_

"Princess, have your ladies been shown around the gardens yet?" Thor inquired, glancing at the two ladies-in-waiting. They both straightened their postures when Thor looked over at them. "I would be glad to show them."

Sigyn nodded, gesturing to her ladies. "Go." She said. "Thank you, my prince."

The ladies-in-waiting hurried after Thor, that bastard, whispering excitedly to each other. Loki looked back, considering joining them, because he wasn't prepared to be alone with Sigyn. He looked back towards her.

"I'm sorry." He said, dipping his head towards her. "About him."

She laughed. "He is quite… Headstrong, is he not?"

"He's used to getting his way." He admitted. "He was very frustrated when you denied it to him. I'm surprised he managed to be courteous, he does tend to forget his manners sometimes."

"I'm sure he means well." She said. "He seems to care very much for you, my prince."

"And I him. Even if I am usually the one cleaning up his messes. But it seems there is no mess to clean up here, my princess."

She chuckled at that. "My heart is not torn over his decision. If he does not find me worthy, then that means Asgard is not in my destiny. I do wish my stay was longer, though. Your realm is quite lovely."

"Have you yet to see it at night?" He asked. His hands were uncharacteristically clenched into tight, nervous fists at his side. "It is possible to reach out and touch the stars from one of the towers in the palace. It truly is a sight to behold."

"No." Sigyn shook her head. A smile spread onto her lips. "But I would be honored if you showed me."

He blinked in surprise that was soon replaced by the warmth of a smile. "As you wish, Sigyn of Vanaheim."

He knelt and gently took her hand. It was soft like silk against his lips.

"Until tonight, Loki of Asgard."

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 **A/N: Reviews are the bomb dot com!**


	8. Chapter 7

**A/N: AP exams are oveeeeeer.**

* * *

 **Chapter Seven**

They were all still sitting around the table when Tony Stark—billionaire, genius, philanthropist, playboy, _Iron Man_ —showed up.

Of all the larger-than-life figures she'd encountered today, Tony Stark had to be the largest. Or, at least, the most awe-inducing because he was certainly not the most physically imposing; that accolade went to either Thor, who refused to even look at her now, or Natasha Romanov, the Black Widow, who could probably kill her with a pen cap. Nevertheless, Tony Stark made a grand, unannounced entranced by sauntering in and making Hannah feel stupid and poor.

"When did you become an expert in thermonuclear astrophysics?" Maria Hill, the intimidating woman in the black S.H.I.E.L.D jumpsuit, asked him with narrowed eyes.

And Tony Stark, being Tony Stark, simply answered "last night" like it was no big deal.

While Stark and Dr. Banner were having an elevated conversation concerning the science behind the Tesseract, Hannah tried to reflect on what had just happened. Before Stark arrived, they'd all been watching Fury interrogate Loki. Just hearing his voice sent shivers down Hannah's spine, but it was when looked into the camera with a smirk saying he's already won that Hannah felt herself grow weak. Hearing someone talk about how pathetic humanity was should've repulsed her, but it didn't. Rather, when he looked up into the camera with a glint in his jade-colored eyes, she found she couldn't look away.

And that was what scared her.

"And what do you do?"

Hannah looked up to find Tony Stark next to her seat. She blinked. "Hannah Frost," She introduced herself for the tenth time. "It's kind of a long story—"

"Miss Frost is here to help us get to Loki."

Fury strode over to the conference table like he owned the place (which, technically, he probably did). Though the director freaked her out just a bit, she was glad she didn't have to explain her situation another time since she was still dealing with the repercussions from the first; she didn't know what she had done to Thor, but he acted as if she were invisible.

Tony shrugged. "Fair enough. So, you don't do anything, though? Blow things up? Levitate? No cool powers?"

Hannah shook her head.

"Then she's useless, Fury." He said, and Hannah wasn't sure if he was joking. "Can't even blow things up."

"That's rude." Captain Rogers commented, but he, too, seemed a little exasperated with the whole situation. The part about Loki's alien army and the Tesseractt, in particular. Hannah wished she could look as composed as he did, though, since she felt more stable just sitting next to him _._

Fury rolled his eye.

He then proceeded to discuss more strategic stuff with everyone else. Hannah zoned out, not even beginning to comprehend what they were discussing (what the hell is a hydra?), but her own thoughts were a dangerous place. To keep herself distracted from thinking about… Her life at the moment, she focused on one of the tech guys play Galaga on his computer.

"Miss Frost, are you alright?"

Everyone had left the table to do whatever it is they were doing; Stark and Banner left for the lab, Fury probably went to go spy on someone, Natasha left long before, and Thor had stormed off to brood about Hannah's existence. That left her alone with the captain, who was still sitting next to her.

She nodded, but it probably wasn't very convincing. "Yes. Thank you, captain."

"Steve."

"… Hannah."

They sat in silence for a couple of seconds. Hannah could feel the exhaustion creep into her limbs; she hadn't had a proper sleep in two nights and darkness was beginning to descend on the carrier. She yawned, but then quickly rushed to cover it when she remembered who she was with.

"Excuse me." She said, trying to blink sleep out of her eyes. "I'm just really tired. Time zones and all."

"It's been a long day, right?" Captain Rogers— _Steve—_ suggested.

She chuckled mirthlessly. "Seems so. God, it's just so… So weird. I'm too normal to be hanging out with S.H.I.E.L.D to help them supposedly save the world. This kind of stuff just doesn't happen to girls from Milwaukee."

He nodded. "And boys from Brooklyn don't become super soldiers. That's what I told myself after they injected me with the serum."

Hannah then remembered that he'd been frozen in ice for seventy years, and that the last time he'd seen the world it was at war. She tried to imagine what his life had been like in the forties and how different it must be from today. But somehow, she couldn't get past the star-spangled spandex and the all-American good looks, making it difficult to believe that he'd once led a normal life.

"I'm sorry." She said instinctively, even though she didn't know what she was apologizing for.

He cocked his head. "What for?"

"I… I don't know." She shrugged. "I was just thinking it must've been hard for you. Waking up after seventy years and realizing the world had changed so much."

"The first thing I did was ask if the Allies won the war." He joked. "But there's no going back now. There's no time machine that can take me back. I think. I have to tell myself my life is here and that there's no escaping it."

"Maybe I should tell myself that." She agreed. "I should just accept the fact that I'm not a normal girl from Milwaukee. That maybe there's something different about me, or that I'm supposed to do something with my life."

She looked up to meet his eyes. They were the blue of the sky on a cloudless, happy day that reminded her of family picnics and days at the lake. That deep, sparkling blue was a stark contrast to the pale, cool green she'd been enraptured by earlier.

"I think there's something special about you." He admitted thoughtfully. "And not just because everyone tells you that you should be dead after Stuttgart."

She laughed. "Is that what they told you?"

"Many, many times. I was a sick kid growing up."

Sitting there with him, she considered telling him about what had really happened at Stuttgart. After all, perhaps it was better for her to just accept that she wasn't as normal as she thought, and that this was the status quo. But there was just so much _mystery_ surrounding Loki and her absolutely terrible attraction towards him that she didn't want to voice it. Plus, she was scared Steve would find that unacceptable, and she didn't want him to leave.

"You should get some sleep." He advised. "You look ready to pass out."

"Good call." She yawned, getting up and stretching. Her legs felt like jelly from sitting for so long. "Thank you. For talking to me."

He smiled softly. "Goodnight, Hannah."

"Goodnight, Steve."

* * *

 **A/N: Please please please review! Thank you for sticking with me for eight chapters!**


	9. Chapter 8

**A/N: Pls.**

* * *

Truthfully, though, Hannah did not go to sleep. She retreated to her small sleeping quarters after her conversation with Steve, but she found that sleep would not come easily when placing her head down on the hard pillow. For a government-funded secret agency, S.H.I.E.L.D couldn't do better than the equivalent of a college dorm. Hannah sighed, sitting up in the uncomfortable twin bed dressed in starchy sheets, and glanced towards her charging phone. It'd been one of the few personal possessions she'd had time to bring when the agents showed up at her doorstep. The carrier had no signal whatsoever, go figure, but she still had free, government-funded wifi. She reached to unplug the phone from its cable.

A quick Google search led her to an archive on Norse mythology. She scrolled through the directory to find what she was looking for- a page on Norse deities. The list, organized alphabetically, was full of names she couldn't pronounce. A tight, nervous coil bunched up in her stomach as she scrolled past the H's, I's, J's, and K's till she found what she was looking for.

In Norse mythology, Loki was known to be the god of trickery. Hannah supposed this was pretty close to what Fury described him, if not a little too nice. She skimmed through the information, raising a brow when she came across something weird. Which was, to be fair, all of it. Loki was apparently a piece of shit in the myths—what with the kidnapping and killing—but she couldn't exactly assume any better. Still, though, as she read, she could only picture the same man who'd looked at her with all the vulnerability in the world.

She got to a part about Loki's relations. His father was Odin, his brother was Thor, and… His wife was Sigyn.

 _Sig-in. Oh my God._

Hannah felt like she were watching a car crash as she kept reading. The phone shook in her hands as she processed the words on the screen. Sigyn was the goddess of fidelity. Loyalty. Fealty. She was the dutiful, loving wife to Loki, supporting him even after he'd killed and lied his way through Asgard. She suffered through his punishment with him, collecting poison in a bowl to keep it from reaching his eyes, despite having been completely innocent herself. Simply because that was her _job,_ that was _who she was._

She set the phone down. Loki had called her Sigyn at Stuttgart. Somehow, in some way, she hadn't been killed by that blast of energy. And then he lowered his staff, and he looked into her eyes, and he reached out and touched her, and Hannah felt as if she'd known him her entire life.

What did this all mean? Honestly, she hadn't a clue. All that she knew was that she had to get answers.

* * *

Loki had a visitor that following morning.

He looked up when he heard the doors sealing him off from the rest of the carrier open. He rolled his eyes, expecting it to be that damned man with the eye patch again.

But it wasn't.

Walking towards him was the Midgardian girl from Stuttgart, the one with the golden waves and eyes the color of Vanaheim's sky. The one that looked like Sigyn, the one that he'd reached out for in the city. She walked towards the glass calmly, but her quivering hands betrayed her fear. As much as he wanted to tell her that she didn't have to be afraid of him, he couldn't fall prey the misgivings of his own mind; even if he refused to come to terms with it, Sigyn was dead, and this Midgardian girl was nothing to him.

Deep down, though, he knew that even if magic couldn't bring her back, other forces most certainly could.

He straightened his posture when they were finally face-to-face. "Ah. The girl who refused to kneel." He said.

She hardly flinched. She seemed to fight herself when meeting his eyes. "You know who I am."

"A stupid human wench?" He nearly forced himself to spit out. It was difficult to fire obscenities when the curve of her lips called for his to stay silent. "That's all the relevance I can attribute."

"You called me Sigyn." She said. Her hands clenched at the seam of her pants. "At Stuttgart."

Only _she_ could make him tongue tied in a conversation. Faced with the girl's— _Sigyn's—_ scrutiny, Loki almost wanted to tell her what he thought was the truth, to confide his thoughts in her. But then he remembered that he couldn't let his still-boiling grief control him.

But she was persistent.

"You reached out to touch me." She continued. "You… You looked at me as if I weren't a target. In that moment, I felt like I'd known you all my life. And I wasn't scared."

 _She wasn't scared._

"But now I'm terrified." There's a sharpness, a poignancy, to her voice now. "Because Sigyn is the goddess of fidelity and _your wife._ And you're kind of crazy, and I'm _mortified_ by you, but I can't stay away. And I want to know _why_ before my life spirals further out of control."

All the maelstroms of the nine realms now seemed to pool in her eyes. That was a gaze Loki had not seen very often, but found familiar still. Her lower lip trembled, but she stood her ground nonetheless. This girl, this human girl, looked so much like Sigyn that it pained him.

"You look like her." He said aloofly, giving his intimate thoughts a detached, shallow life. "You look like Sigyn."

"Is that it?"

"You were not scared of me." He continued. "And you intercepted my powers with some of your own."

She blinked. He quirked an eyebrow.

"Did you not know?" He inquired. "Did you not feel the magic coming off your fingertips, did you not see the white glow that enveloped you? If not for it, you would have died. A human could not have claimed that."

"So, what are you trying to say?" She asked, taking some time to process his words. "I don't understand what you're getting at. Do you... Do you think I'm Sigyn because of all that?

"Do I?" He suggested, though his heartbeat felt caught in his throat. Her eyes seemed to be drawing confessions, foreboding, out of his own mouth. "You say you were unafraid of me, but you dread the notion of being at my side. Even then, you are compelled towards me. Look at you. I abhor you, but yet you are still here."

She frowned. "I still don't understand."

"Dense girl." He said, but dreaded having to acknowledge what seemed to be the inevitable truth. "You are under the impression that Sigyn is the goddess of fidelity, yes?"

She nodded.

"There is so much that the humans leave out." He mused. "Even if there are some things that they guess correctly. They oft forget that we are as susceptible to Death's grip as they are. And that sometimes we are reborn. Reincarnated. Oddly enough, the Norse excluded that from their dogma. But other peoples adapted that same concept. It serves as consolation. Hope."

Her eyes were wide. "So, you're saying that I'm your dead wife's reincarnation or something."

"Seemingly so." He said. Suddenly, he felt lighter, but he still had to give her the impression that she didn't matter at all to him. He practically trembled, though, because if his speculations were true, his Sigyn was once more back at his side. That alone dissipated his negations about this human girl. "That would explain why I simply couldn't bring myself to stop thinking of you. Not only do you _look_ like her—you _are_ her. And that means you are loyal to me."

* * *

 **A/N: pls.**


	10. Chapter 9

**A/N: Sorry this took so long! I've been really busy with school, but summer is close, so I'll definitely be updating sooner!**

* * *

 **Chapter Nine**

The girl just looked at him as if he fell out of the sky. Her eyes were wide and her lips were slightly parted to convey incredulity. But she didn't look scared. There was an intrigue, a vulnerability, behind her gaze that made him feel warm. His Sigyn— No, no. Not Sigyn. Despite what he'd just told her, she was _not_ Sigyn. He only said that so she could trust him.

He looked past her at the control board she stood in front of. The director had been very explicit when demonstrating what it could do.

It was—no, _she—_ was the key to his escape.

"I never thought I'd see you again," He started, his voice soft like velvet. "Sigyn—"

"Hannah." She cut him off, blushing. "My name is Hannah. Sorry, it's just… Weird. Being called Sigyn. And weren't you, like, pissy about this two seconds ago-?"

"But that's you." He suggested gently with a small smile. "It is you. How can I be opposed to having my wife in my reach?"

She looked down at her hands, which were tightly clasped together. "You think so? You think it's me?"

"Certainly. I know your beauty is unparalleled."

He wasn't called a silver tongue for nothing. Her face flushed pink again, and reached up to tuck a lock of gold behind her ear, but her eyes remained glued to the floor. Her leg bounced rapidly, nervously. Good nonetheless. If compliments could get him out of this damned box, that wouldn't be the last of them.

"This is all so surreal." She said with a tiny shake of her head. "Two days ago, I woke up looking forward to another normal day. I'd go to classes, maybe see the city some… But it was all routine. And then you came along that night. All of a sudden, I'm special. Not normal. Not just some girl from suburban America. I'm… I'm supposed to _accept_ that I'm the wife of a god, that I have _powers,_ that I'm _more than what I thought I was._ But I just don't know if I can."

He wanted to groan, but he couldn't break character. He _had_ to get her to trust him—to do _anything_ for him—so he could get out before the entire carrier was blasted away. His plan to have the place implode was already underway, and he knew he had very little time to escape.

 _She is not Sigyn, she's only a pawn. She is not Sigyn, she's only a pawn. She. Is. A. Pawn._

"And you said this was my destiny." She continued, finally looking up. He wanted to look away because her eyes were so familiar, but he couldn't let himself be fooled. "Because Sigyn was really faithful. You said it yourself—I'm loyal to you. And… And I used to not believe in destiny, but now…" She paused and wrung her hands. "This would've sounded absolutely impossible two days ago, but I'm, like, drawn to you. I guess. Ever since Stuttgart. And even while aboard the carrier. That's why I'm here, I think. I… I can't stay away. And that's really scary."

Well.

"You mustn't be scared now." He chided warmly. "Not when you weren't before."

She remained silent.

"You loved Asgard." He said softly, deftly, as if his words could bathe the entire room in precious silver. "You thought it beautiful since the moment you stepped foot in the palace. You'd wander the halls, walk around the gardens for hours. But most of all you loved the stars, the night sky. You'd—"

"Watch them from the palace's highest tower." She finished, the words tumbling gracelessly out of her mouth. "And… And you took me there one time. That's how I fell in love with the view."

 _How… How does she know that?_

There wasn't a way she'd have knowledge of that. He once again felt his heartbeat quicken and his throat tighten. That piece of information wasn't in any book written by the humans.

"You remember that?" He prompted, keeping his composure nonetheless. He couldn't turn her away now, not when time was tight, and certainly not after what she'd just said.

"I don't know how." She admitted. "But there's a lot of things I don't know the answer to."

"What else can you recall?" His own pulse pounded in his ears. He knew he shouldn't be wasting time interrogating her, but she'd managed to get under his skin yet again.

And there was only one person that could do that.

Her brows creased. "I… I don't know. That just came to me out of nowhere when you mentioned it."

She swallowed thickly, her eyes darting side to side unsurely. His goal wasn't to make her uncomfortable, but he _had to know._

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. Whatever she was going to say, though, was silenced by the sound of a shrill, piercing alarm. A small part of him wanted to smile, knowing that he'd taken down Earth's mightiest without having to lift a finger, but looking at the girl in front of him, he couldn't deny it any longer: _she was Sigyn._ He'd tried to distance himself from the notion despite his efforts to charm her into opening his cell, but that'd failed pathetically; there was only one way for her to know about the palace's highest tower, about the stars in Asgard. Who cared if she was now a human— _it was her._

And he was going to have her back.

* * *

Hannah ran.

She turned on heel, and bolted towards the door as if the floor were hot. It was like that dumb game she used to play as a kid—"the floor is lava!"—where if you weren't fast, you'd "die". How funny to think something so normal could apply to such an abnormal situation where her life was quite literally on the line.

 _"_ _Hannah! Wait!"_

Something made her pause right before reaching the door. It was that innateness that she couldn't explain about half an hour ago, but now she kind of could; it was terrifying and exhilarating at the same time. She turned to look back at Loki. He was the man everyone had made their priority of contain, but also the only person who'd made an attempt at explaining her situation.

And she kind of believed him.

It all made sense now. And despite her doubts and her fear, the resolution, that explanation, was cathartic.

And maybe, just maybe, a bit enchanting.

"You and I both need to leave." Loki said through the glass that separated them. Hannah had no clue how he could remain so calm. "You need to open this cell."

She looked behind her at the console that operated the thing. It looked complicated to operate, but, she was sure she could manage.

Still, a little voice in the back of her mind screamed that this was a terrible idea.

"Why do you need to leave?" She asked suddenly, the rational part of her mind taking over. "I mean, yeah, the carrier is probably falling out of the sky, but you're a prisoner—"

"You want me to die?" He cut her off, that silver tongue sharpening itself into a blade. "Hannah, love, please. We can't be together if you don't get me out."

She bit her lip, trying to block out the wails of the alarm. A large part of her _wanted_ to comply—her curiosity just couldn't be satiated by seeing him through glass. But that little voice, that damned little voice; it protested against her thoughts in rage, telling her she was stupid, and that _he's a pathologic liar, dammit._

 _But it all makes sense._

She raced towards the console without thinking. The alarm's shrieks assaulted her ears, prohibiting her from concentrating. Her hands shook upon the screen, and she could feel Loki's pleading eyes on her as she tried desperately to reason her way through the controls. Finally, she managed to open the cell.

Her heart fluttered in her chest like a caged bird as she watched him exit. The door didn't automatically close behind him, but Hannah didn't really care too much. She stood there, unsure of what to do, as he made his way towards her.

"What now?" She whispered against the blaring of the alarm. "I can't exactly go out there with you."

"Don't fret about it." He said, his lips curving upwards ever-so-slightly. "I've got it under control."

It didn't really appear that way, but just as Hannah was about to voice her concerns, the door to the holding chamber opened. A man in heavy grey body armor entered. He was holding Loki's glowing staff in one hand and a menacing rifle in the other.

Loki nodded as he took the staff from the man. "She'll be coming with us."

 _Am… I?_

"Um, where are we going?" She asked, frowning.

"To New York City, of course." Loki answered. Suddenly, his smile looked more sinister. "I've heard it's quite intricate as far as human civilizations go."

Hannah glanced down at the staff. Its tip glowed a bright, blinding blue. The light made everything it fell on look sharp and dangerous. The voice of reason in Hannah's head had shut up, but Hannah didn't need it to know this was a really bad idea.

"No." She said, her voice wavering. "I can't go with you."

He raised an eyebrow calmly, but she all of a sudden felt the urge to step back. "And why is that?"

"Be—"

The door opened again, this time to reveal Thor. He roared in anger, and charged towards Loki, who simply stood in front of the open cell door as if nothing were happening. Something inside Hannah made her want to push him out of the way before he got hit in the face with Thor's hammer, but that moment never came; rather, Thor seemed to phase through his brother and ended up in the cell.

"Are you ever _not_ going to fall for that?" Loki asked Thor, who was trying to break through the glass with his hammer. Loki turned towards Hannah. A cold feeling grew in the pit of her stomach.

"Come," He said, offering his free hand. "Let's leave."

Hannah wanted to take his hand, but she knew she couldn't. She shook her head. "No."

He took her hand anyways. Hannah suddenly felt violated, wrong. She tried to yank her hand out of his grip, but he was unnaturally strong. In the background, she could hear Thor banging on the glass; she looked towards him for a brief second, and saw him frantically shaking his head at her as if telling her to run.

"You want this." Loki said, his voice suddenly more like obsidian than silver. For a second, Hannah believed him, and let her hand go slack, but then her own will hardened against his words.

"You caused all this, didn't you?" She exclaimed, her own voice suddenly rising in panic. "This was your plan all along, to endanger everyone's lives! I can't be with someone—"

"There's no escaping it." He continued. "You're meant for this."

Hannah stood her ground. "No."

He let go of her wrist, which she knew was bruised. "Very well."

Hannah blinked. Thor kept smashing his hammer against the cell walls; every hit warranted for the entire place to tremble from the sheer force. Loki smiled wickedly, looking up towards the trembling ceiling, and made his way to the control console.

"The humans think us immortal, brother," He said nonchalantly, looking down at the control panel. The chamber shook again from another blow of the hammer. "Should we test that-?"

"Move away please."

Hannah's head snapped towards the entrance. The guard in the armor lay groaning at the feet of the man who appeared on her doorstep in Stuttgart, Agent Coulson. He was carrying what looked to be a really, _really_ dangerous weapon that reminded Hannah of a cartoon death ray. Loki slowly lifted his hands off the screen, but Hannah knew he had something up his sleeve. He always did.

"You like this?" Agent Coulson said, giving his death ray a pat as he slowly neared Loki. "Started working on the prototype after you sent the Destroyer." He shrugged. "Even I don't know what it does." He turned it on, causing the barrel to glow orange. "Wanna find out—"

It happened so fast; one second, Loki was standing at the console, and the next he was plunging his staff into Coulson's back. Hannah and Thor both screamed, watching as the man crumpled to the floor in a bloody heap. She rushed to Coulson's side. His white shirt beneath his jacket was already dark with a growing splotch of blood.

Loki went back to the controls. With a flick of his finger on the screen, the chamber began shaking violently again. This time, though, it wasn't from Thor's hammer; rather, the cell Thor was trapped in seemed to be pulling itself away from its foundations. A gaping hole opened beneath the cell. There was now the blue of the sky underneath it.

And just like that, the holding cell freed itself from its confines and tumbled towards the ground with Thor inside it.

"You will come to me eventually," Loki said coolly without even looking at her as he opened the entrance door. "There is no way around it."

With that, he left, leaving Hannah with blood on her shaking hands and red in her vision. She popped Coulson up against the wall, but she knew it was futile.

"I'm sorry," She managed, feeling her throat close up and tears cloud her eyes. "I'm so, so sorry. This is all my fault. I shouldn't have let him out, God, I'm _so_ sorry—"

"He won't win." Coulson managed, his voice fading. He closed his eyes. "He won't win."

* * *

 **A/N: Thanks to everyone that left reviews! They make me really happy!**


	11. Chapter 10

**A/N: Anyways guess who is back and continuing this! Me! This bitch!**

Hannah sat at the table overlooking the control room once more. The carrier was still, computers and machines were still working, partially, but the people controlling them were despondent. She put her head down and watched the guy that was playing Galaga close out his game window.

Nothing made sense. Her interaction with Loki played over and over again in her mind. Even then, she couldn't describe it. If someone asked her what went down in the holding cell- which they were bound to- she didn't think herself capable to explain. He said she was Sigyn, she was his _wife,_ and she was bound to him. There was no way around it; it was her destiny, her fate.

 _You will come to me eventually, he'd said. There is no way around it._

And now he was gone. The only person, god, deity, alien, whatever, that bothered telling her what was going on was gone. He was headed to New York to do God-knows-what. His escape and absence made her stomach churn.

Not even the sound of footsteps behind her made her pick her head up. She closed her eyes when the chair next to hers scraped against the floor as it was pulled back. She didn't want to talk to anyone right now, and hoped no one wanted to talk to her.

"Hannah."

Steve's voice was softer than she expected. Slowly, she opened her eyes and picked her head up.

"'M sorry." She mumbled, not exactly sure if she was apologizing for being nearly asleep or for the whole situation they were in.

"It's alright." He said. Hearing him say that should've made her feel better, but it didn't. "Fury was looking for you. He wanted to talk about what happened in the holding cell."

There it was. Hannah felt nauseous at the thought of having to speak about, well, everything. She swallowed heavily.

"It's my fault, I already know." The words just tumbled out of her mouth. "God, I could've stopped him, I could've done something, I-"

"Hey, hey." Steve stopped her. "No one is blaming you. He just wants to know what happened and why you were there."

Hannah shook her head. Her hands quivered. "No, it _is_ my fault, Steve, you don't get it."

There was a long pause before Steve spoke again. "Alright. Tell me why you think that."

Hannah felt tears beginning to sting at her eyes. This was why she didn't want to talk about it; she knew she'd break down as soon as she did. She licked her lips and pressed her hands together to get them to stop shaking. Steve only looked at her, patient and reassuring.

"No one told me what was going on," She started, nearly whispering. "About why I'm here. So I went to the holding cell. At Stuttgart, Loki had… Reached out to me. To touch me. And this glow surrounded me. It was like he recognized me. I had to find out why." She paused, taking in a breath. "It was weird, what he told me. Made no sense at all. But at the same time it did, because, well, anything goes, right? I mean, I didn't think any of the stuff happening right now was possible, but it is, and, well, yeah."

"You know Norse mythology?" He shook his head. She continued. "In the myths, he had a wife. Her name was Sigyn. She was the goddess of fidelity. She was always involved in her husband's messes. Not because she wanted to, but because she had no _choice._ There's this one myth where Loki was punished for something, and his punishment was to get water-boarded with poison. Sigyn stood at his side, collecting the poison in a bowl to keep it from getting in his eyes. She didn't want to be there, of course, but what else could she do? She's the goddess of loyalty, _fealty._ Can you imagine that, being bound to a terrible person and not being able to do anything about it? And… And she just never had a choice. Ever."

"Right." Steve nodded slowly. "What did he tell you, though? When you were in the cell?"

She wrung her hands together. This was it, the part that she didn't want to tell anyone about. Not because they wouldn't believe her, but because then the blame would be easy to place. After all, who wouldn't believe the reincarnation of Loki's wife, the goddess of fidelity, wouldn't help him? She looked up at Steve fleetingly. Concern was etched on his face; his brow was furrowed slightly, but she knew he was trying to keep calm for her.

She could already feel a lump growing in her throat. She dug her nails into her palm. "I think I'm Sigyn. That I'm the reincarnation of his wife."

Everything was still quiet. Hannah swore she could hear her own breathing echo over the room.

"Okay," Steve nodded after what seemed much too long. She couldn't read his expression. "That's… You're right, that sounds crazy." He paused. "But everything here is crazy. So when Fury asks, just told him exactly what you told me. But you're going to be okay. I'll make sure of it."

His words were hollow. She was sure he didn't mean them to be, but what was the point in reassuring her when there was no escaping her fate?

"I could've done something…" She said absently. "I was so stupid. I just stood there. He's dead now, isn't he? Agent Coulson?"

Expectantly, she looked up at Steve.

"It's not your fault." He repeated, firmness behind his gentle tone. "You were at the wrong place at the wrong time."

 _Just like I've been since the start of this._

"I didn't help him escape." She blurted out. "I just stood there and let him talk, I just listened even though I shouldn't have, and…" She trailed off, wiping dejectedly at the tear rolling down her face. "But I could've done something."

Steve said nothing. Hannah felt even worse at that. There was already enough silence surrounding her. Not knowing what else to do, she reached out and set her hand on his, which was resting on the table. He blinked, glancing at her minutely. Then, he took her hand in his and gave it a squeeze. His grip was strong and he was warm.

"Am I interrupting something?"

Nick Fury's voice nearly made Hannah jump in her seat. Steve dropped her hand as if it were hot and directed himself to the other man.

"No Director," He answered. "Miss Frost and I were just talking."

"Well." Fury took a seat across from them. "I'm all ears, then." He stared directly at Hannah, never taking his gaze off her. "So, Miss Frost. What exactly happened in the holding cell?"

Hannah sighed.

* * *

"We can _use_ you."

Hannah frowned and raised a brow at Tony Stark. "Excuse me?"

"We can _use_ you," The billionaire repeated, carefully enunciating every word. "To, y'know, stop Loki and his plan to take over the world? Yeah. We can definitely use you."

Hannah shook her head. "I don't-"

"Oh, c'mon, I heard you talking with Capsicle." Tony cut her off. "Back there, in the control room. I was hanging out in the hall leading towards it, kinda eavesdropped, sorry. And I don't believe in all this fairy tale bullshit, but in light of everything that's happened in the past forty eight hours, I _might_ just think you're useful. Because even if you're not what's-her-face, Loki probably wouldn't try to kill you on site like he would the rest of us. Probably."

Hannah rocked back and forth on her feet, trying to figure out how to respond. It wasn't every day that Iron Man stopped you in a hallway to tell you that you might be useful. She was still drained from having to explain the incident not once, but twice, and couldn't think of anything to say.

"Leave me alone, please."

Other than that.

She stalked down the empty hall leading back to her room. Before Tony had practically come out of nowhere, she was on her way to gather her things and be ready to dropped off at the nearest base. She wanted to go home.

"Okay, fair enough." Tony shrugged. "But you do know S.H.I.E.L.D isn't gonna do that, right?"

She stopped and turned around to face him. "What?"

"You really think Fury is just gonna let you go home like he said?" He quirked a brow. "That once you're off this metal death trap you can go back to your normal life in Michigan-"

"Milwaukee."

"- Or wherever?" He shook his head, scoffing. "Nah. Of course not. You're something else, kid, something special. S.H.I.E.L.D likes to monitor special. Why do you think they make death rays and stuff? Because there's some weird, special shit out there, and they like to make sure it's handled."

"So, you're saying my life is just never going to be the same."

"Pretty much."

Hannah scoffed at that, turning back on heel and started again towards her room. She was done. Completely done. She just wanted this nightmare to end, for everything to be over. Out of sight, out of mind, they said. If she didn't have to deal with any of this, there wouldn't be a problem anymore.

"A little piece of shrapnel changed mine." Tony sounded nonchalant from down the hall. "Can't imagine what's going to change yours."

She paused and closed her eyes. She didn't need this. She could just go home, pretend none of this ever happened, and try to carry on. But then she remembered the blood-stained hoodie she'd changed out of, and the way the dried blood wouldn't seem to come off her hands. When it actually did, after nearly scalding her hands, she could still imagine it there. Perhaps this was still her destiny, perhaps there was no other way around her fate. But she could still do something good along the way.

"Ah, see, knew you'd come back." Tony grinned as she walked back towards him.

"How would I be useful to you?" Her voice was tight. "What would you need me to do?"

"So, you told Fury that Loki believes you to be his dead wife or something." He started. "He's got a soft spot for you. You could sweeten the pot, because, as I said, he wouldn't fight you like he would us. Then, as you're distracting him with your…" He looked her up and down. Hannah crossed her arms over her chest. "Looks, I guess, we can swoop in comfortably."

She rolled her eyes, and placed her hand on her hip. "I'd be bait, then."

"No, you're a pot sweetener, a negotiator."

"There's no negotiating with him." She pinched at the bridge of her nose.

"Then, yeah, you're bait." Tony decided. "But he wouldn't kill you. You look too much like his dead girlfriend."

 _What great reassurance._

"Anyways, as you told Cap and-" The man continued, but stopped abruptly. "Wait, what was that between you?"

Hannah shook her head, confused.

"That hand thing? Are you like a thing? No? Okay. Don't blame you, but between him and Rudolph the evil reindeer the choice is _pretty_ obvious."

"Mr. Stark."

"Tony, actually." He waved his hand as if waving her away. "Anyways, you said he was going to Manhattan, right?"

"Yes."

"Perfect." Tony snapped his fingers. "Say, Hannah, have you ever been to Stark Tower?"

 **A/N: I love validation.**


	12. Chapter 11

**A/N: This took... Way too long to update.**

* * *

Loki supposed that for what it was, Stark Tower was satisfactory. It was luxurious as far as human dwellings went, but he couldn't fathom why the tower- and New York City itself- was considered a pinnacle of humanity's brilliance.

He strode into the penthouse expecting to be ambushed by whatever security measures its owner had taken. Stark, after all, was far from unintelligent. However, he was surprised to find it completely empty. He wrapped his hand tighter around the staff.

"Loki."

It was her. Hannah, the stupid mortal girl from Stuttgart, the one who swore she'd seen Asgard's skies with him in a past life, the one who managed to leave him speechless simply with her presence.

He calmly raised a brow at her, trying to ignore the knot in his throat. "Are you the best your heroes could send?"

"This is a trap," She rushed towards him from the doorway she'd been standing in. "They're trying to bait you with me."

"Yes, of course, but why are you telling me this?"

"To warn you."

He looked down at her. Her lip quivered slightly.

"I thought over what you said," She continued. "About how I'll always come back to you."

He raised a brow.

"And I think you're right. I couldn't stay away. I've just accepted that this is my fate."

The humans considered him the god of lies for a reason- he _knew_ when people were less than truthful. However, this felt completely genuine. Maybe it was because it came from those plump, pink lips whose curve he was no stranger to.

"And you suppose I believe this?" He questioned, swallowing the knot in his throat. "That you had a sudden change of heart since we last met?"

He tried pushing past her, but the touch of her hand on his arm nearly burned him to his core.

"You couldn't doubt it yourself." Hannah was persistent. "You said it."

"Yes, to get you to free me." He rolled his eyes. "You are mortal. Human. I wouldn't dare insult my wife by comparing you to her."

"Why are you in denial?" She asked. "It's taken me so much to accept this. If I can, so can you."

Why _was_ he in denial? Was it fear? Pride? If anything, he should be content with having his wife back at his side. So, why was he so hesitant when she was standing right in front of him?

"You said I'll always come back to you." Her eyes searched his face. "Well, here I am."

Her hand, small and delicate, was still wrapped around his arm. He looked down at it. Slowly, she let go and lowered her hand.

"And if I am to believe this," He started lowly, skeptically. "That you're betraying your… Friends to warn me, how do you suppose to proceed from here?"

"They're not my friends. They kept me pretty much captive because SHIELD wanted to monitor me."

"Answer the question."

He almost instinctively tightened his grip around the staff he'd been holding in his hand upon hearing her. Her eyes shifted towards the movement.

"I go with you." Her own hands were balled tightly at her sides. "I don't know what you're planning to do, but I'll be there."

"Hmm."

He reached out to cup her jaw with his free hand, and tilted her head back to get her to look directly at him. Those crystal eyes suddenly went wide with fear. The way her breath hitched in her throat might have been imperceptible to another, but he knew the exact way her body worked. Delicately, as if feeling the petals of a flower, he ran his thumb over the bow of her lips. A visible shiver went through her.

"Being here out of your own volition," He said softly. "Is something I find difficult to believe. The only reason I've yet to kill you is because I still believe, for whatever reason, that you're my wife." Her pulse raced beneath his fingers. "Make of that what you will."

She was Sigyn. She wouldn't work against him; she was loyal only to him. He knew, in the end, that she would be with him. But though she was Sigyn, she also was not. Hannah was her own person with free will. Her looks, her powers, her eerie memories- all trivial things. Perhaps they were meant to embed her in the fabric of fate, but they did nothing for her own ability to think and reason. She would never be his again truly. In body and spirit, maybe, but never in mind. Her fealty was only conditional.

He was not a man of impulses. He knew himself to be rational, aloof, always thinking ahead. It was his way of differentiating himself from his brother. This very cold logic should have kept him from grazing his lips over hers, the very thing he'd ached to do since seeing her through the glass of the holding cell. Her entire body went rigid, then slack, and finally dominant; she kissed him back with as much desperation as he had repression. She was all of a sudden foreign and familiar, and it was through her lips that Sigyn of Vanaheim and Hannah of Earth converged, but only by so much. He broke away first, pulling apart from her almost abruptly, and let go of her. The absence of her pulse beneath his fingers was immense.

Hannah stood where she was, lips parted, pupils dilated, and hands awkwardly hanging by her sides as if she weren't sure of their use. She swallowed heavily. Her eyes were glistening with tears.

"And you said you'd kill me." Her voice wavered. "I honestly wish you had."

Before he could say anything, one of the doors leading to another room of the penthouse slid open with a metallic hiss. Out stepped Tony Stark himself, sans the armor he prided himself on, with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his slacks.

"Okay, that was _not_ part of the script." Stark announced, strolling into the living room as if he owned it. "But, wow, that performance deserved an Oscar, Hannah. I mean, hell, just _touching_ Reindeer Games should earn you a nomination."

"You-" Loki turned towards Hannah, but Stark cut him off.

"She," The other man calmly held up a hand. "Tried to warn you. You just couldn't let your pride go for one second, could you? Happens to the best of us." He made his way towards the bar counter on the far side of the room. "Now, would you like a drink?"

* * *

 **A/N: I listened to Point of No Return from Phantom of the Opera whilst writing this. Also, please review!**


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